


Totally Insignificant Moments

by sherlocked221



Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:44:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocked221/pseuds/sherlocked221
Summary: A collection of five stories, little moments in the Monkees' lives





	1. Good Morning

Micky had energy no matter the day nor the time or place. Whether he was bouncing off the walls doing his werewolf impression or just having the usual spring in his step while his friends lagged behind, he was up for anything most of the time.

And even this early in the damned morning when Mike, Peter and Davy were still snoring in their beds, he was up with a rumbling stomach and a fridge full of food for once. Rarely had he seen so much in there even since they moved in. It sure was going to go fast.

He took the bread out of the cupboard and fished random fillings out of the fridge. Once everything, including a plate, knife and butter was lain on the kitchen surface, he started to construct a mighty tower of a sandwich that would be difficult to eat in the traditional manner. That didn’t mean, however, that he was not inclined to try. While assembling the several story meal, behind him, a very tired Mike wandered up.

He was dressed in a baggy, white onesie, a black criss-cross pattern decorating it and he still had one of his woolly hats on. This one was blue. His hair that poked out from it was mildly messy but nothing so crazy like Micky’s electrocuted style frizz. He looked knackered as he rubbed one of those dark eyes with his fist making it red with irritation and yet, he still looked like the young, handsome leader of their group.

He noticed Micky standing there, back facing him and hands flailing about like a comedy sketch behind a bed sheet where some crazy doctor pulled out his patient’s insides. He had the look for it. The thought, ignoring the slightly disturbing part, make Mike smile as he crept as quite as a mouse up behind his friend. Finally, he paralleled his body to Micky’s and wrapped his arms around his friend’s waist, chin resting on his shoulder.

“Morning.” Micky uttered, not even the tiniest bit surprised by Mike’s actions.

“Good Morning.” Mike replied in his ear, gently brushing his lips against his hot skin.


	2. I think we should go to bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever felt like your body cannot physically move because you're so tired?   
> Even to walk to bed?  
> Yeah, the Monkees get that

The pad had become shrouded in a layer of thick darkness, only the blaring light from the TV shone through, keeping it from being totally impossible to see. It illuminated the four Monkees laying on the sofa like a pile of dead corpses.

Mike was curled up against one arm of the couch, his legs bent up beside him and his head resting back on Peter’s shoulder. The blond member of the group, Peter, was stretched out with his arms around the two friend’s either side of him. His mop of straight hair was splayed on the back pillow of the sofa in a less than comfortable looking position that seemed as though his head might just come loose from his neck. Never the less, he had not moved for ages, leading the other members to believe that he was perfectly content like that. Davy lay on Peter’s left having his head on his arm and feet pressing on the other arm of the sofa. Finally, Micky’s skinny body was draped over his three friends, laying on his stomach, his cheek sinking into Mike’s chest. He was the heavy weight that gave them all an excuse not to move and get into a bed. It was far too comfortable to just pile there.

After a while, the TV show they had been watching finished and a crap one begun. There was a minuscule amount of movement, barely able to be seen but the boys were thinking of getting up and ready for bed. Mike was the one to actually get everything in some sort of motion. He moved his head so he could look fully at his friend’s without having to take it off the chair.

“Should we get to bed?” He asked, tapping Micky’s neck, softly. There was a chorus of agreeing groans, but no more movements. And just like that, they all slowly fell asleep.


	3. Peter showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Er, as much as Davy loves Peter, he really didn't need to see 'that'

Peter turned on the shower and felt the cold water on his palm. He let it heat for a couple of seconds while he stripped down. His blue double button shirt was first to be undone, peeled it off his skin and he let it fall off his shoulders to pile on the floor. Next, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it out from the loops in his grey pants, automatically unzipping the fly and pulling them down.

The water was now hot, turning his pale skin to scarlet at first touch but he liked it that way. He dragged down his boxers and stepped into the tub.

A sizzling shower, no one home and music playing loudly on the record player so he could hear it. He idly hoped that none of the other residents in the apartment block complained about the sound but it just sounded so good, the pattering of the water and his friend’s recorded voices accompanying him so he didn’t feel so alone.

And it turned out that he wasn’t alone for long. Davy wondered through the door, a pained expression on his face as the deafening music hit his ears and a bad mood already in motion. He, quite furiously, stormed up to the record player, turned that off, marched into the bathroom, having not heard the shower and squealed at the sight of Peter, completely naked and innocently massaging shampoo into his wet, blond hair. He may have been innocent, but the view was not.

“Sorry!” Davy yelped, heading straight for the door. As he left the Pad again, he kept telling himself ‘I did not see that, I did not see that.’


	4. Happy Halloween!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monkees are struggling to sleep on the night of halloween

Halloween had come far too quickly for the wimpy Monkees who disliked even going downstairs or out of the ground floor bedroom into the dark living room of their pad because of the shadows and places they couldn’t see properly. For all they knew (or that their childish minds thought) there could be anything hiding in the corners; werewolves, vampires, a Texas prairie chicken. All things that stopped them sleeping well at night and especially at a holiday known for its scariness.

At these times, the four band members were not so embarrassed to admit they all shared a bed. All of them, topping and tailing in the two beds upstairs. It wasn’t so shameful to want the security of a locked door, six arms, legs and eyes ready to help along with some of your own. Even Mike, the most serious and probably self-conscious Monkee was happy to curl up on one of the ends of the bed, wrapping himself in several duvets and blankets as well as having the warmth of his friends there too. That was undoubtedly the most comforting thing of all.

This Halloween was not different in any way. The night of the 30th of October came and, quite early, the boys piled into their bedroom. They changed into their pyjamas, one by one and locked the door so they felt just a tad safer. But they were all far to awake to sleep.

“Play a game?” Was all Mike needed to say to get all his friends in a circle and a pack of well-used cards dealt out between them. The evening became night, the scores after playing several games of ‘Beat Neighbours out Doors’ was being boasted by Davy (Davy; 6 everyone else; 1) and outside the dark blue sky had become deep purple.

“I’m really tired...” Peter moaned a while later, dragging his feet up to the bed. This meant that the other three would be left in the slightly dark room, on the floor, alone. It was stupid but none of them wanted to sit down there with one less person. Mike assured himself this fear was not for himself but for Peter’s safety, up in the bed, unaccompanied. Yeah, that was a totally good excuse to get up and coil around Peter to protect him. As predicted, the other two came up, laying the opposite way to their friends in the bed.

“Goodnight.” Micky whispered to everyone in a strangely content voice. Maybe they all will sleep soundly for the first Halloween in years.

BUMP! From downstairs, a noise flew up the spiral stairs, through the locked door like it wasn’t even there and reached each of the Monkees ears. They jumped up, gasping.

This was not going to be as simple as they’d briefly thought.


	5. Mike Nesmith and the case of the missing ‘Triumph’ T-shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike has a favourite hat, shirt, trousers and shoes  
> Everyone else has a favourite too,  
> Its usually Mike's things

It was in here somewhere, Mike was sure. He’d worn it only the other day and, if he knew his friends well enough, it hadn’t been washed since so it should be laying in a pile with his favourite pair of jeans. He searched the bottom of his wardrobe, rummaged through his friend’s and checked under his bed. It still was missing.

His much-loved Triumph t-shirt may have been old, wrinkled and stretched but he was not going to throw it away any time soon. It hung on his shoulders, wrapped around him comfortably, it was really lovely to wear in bed or to go out onto the beach over his swimming trunks. And, as it had seemed, someone else had a similar idea.

Mike wandered back into Peter and Davy’s room, where they had not been sleeping but his third friend had. Micky was curled up in one of the beds, his duvet pulled up to his neck but a slither of grey poked through. Carefully, Mike walked up, so not to wake his friend, and pushed a bit of the cover off Micky’s chest. There, like he’d assumed, was his shirt, clinging to his friend’s thinly built frame.

‘Aw, never mind,’ he thought, ‘at least I still have my cowboy boots!’

He went back into his room to try and find his boots but they also weren’t there. Conveniently, at that moment, Peter wandered in, dressed in tall, brown boots, tassels and all.

PETER!


End file.
